A Sudden Leap
by Dark Wolf Shadow
Summary: After the final battle, Harry ends up the care of a mysterious Hunter. HP verse AU after book 5. Slash warning! Rated M for future innuendos and comments.
1. Chapter 1

_Hey all! Thought I'd try a Van Helsing/ Harry Potter slash crossover. Don't really know why I started writing this, but I like it. hopefully you guys will too! _

_Beta'd by the lovely and wonderful Jessie, who I've been friends with for years. She's also known as Akara Stargazer. _

_My other beta, Lindsey, has been swamped with school and its been really difficult for her to keep editing my stories, so I enlisted the help of Jessie, who is just as wonderful, and slightly less busy. College is not helping any. _

_Disclaimer: I don't own Van Helsing or Harry Potter, because if I did, Ginny wouldn't have married Harry, and given their children horrible names, and Van Helsing would have Harry. But sadly, I can only borrow them for my own amusement. _

**Chapter One**

Harry blinked drowsily. His entire body ached, from his arms all the way down to his toes. The sky above him was dark, scattered with stars he didn't recognize. Then again, he was never really that good at astronomy, so he couldn't really tell. He struggled to move his arms, to pull himself upright, to stand. Gasping for air, he could barely sit up because of the pain. His wand was tightly clenched in his right hand, but he was unable to put any substantial amount of pressure on the left. He cradled his left arm to his chest, scanning his surroundings. He was in a cobblestone alleyway, crumbling brick buildings on either side. It took him five minutes to drag his aching body to the side, to lean against a wall. He let his head fall back, closing his eyes for a minute, trying to get his bearings.

He had been in the battle. The Final Battle outside of Hogwarts, where dozens of people had given their lives. He had cast Avada Kedavra at Voldemort. It hit him- he knew that much. There was a terrible scream, a shriek really, and Voldemort had collapsed. What had happened after? Harry didn't remember anything, except- wait… "Bellatrix." He mumbled to himself. He had seen Bellatrix, screaming at him, and pointing her wand, and then a sickly purple light speeding towards him. "That spell must have sent me here. Where ever here is." He opened his eyes again, looking at the mouth of the alley. His wand was still with him, so he could at least make an attempt to defend himself, but in this state he didn't even know if he could cast a simple levitation charm.

Harry tried again to stand, using the wall to brace himself. Groaning, he leaned heavily against the wall. "Okay, now what?" he asked himself. He had no money, no idea of where he was, and no clue of how to heal himself. And of course, Fate was against him. Footsteps came thundering towards the alley, two maybe three people.

A glance at the sky made him flinch. There was a full moon tonight. Of course there would be. It did serve to better light up the scene that was sprung upon him next, though. The running came closer, and then to Harry's despair, turned down the alley he was hiding in. A giant wolf, clearly a were from Harry's perspective, was being chased by a man in a long trench coat and a hat, who was struggling to keep up. Harry couldn't see his face. Being near the back of the rather long alley, Harry had hoped he would stay out of sight, but his pain and his blood were too strong for the wolf to ignore. He closed his eyes as the animal leapt towards him, growling.

A loud bang shook him. His eyes flew open. The werewolf was lying on the ground, a bullet hole in the back of its head. Harry watched as it shifted from a wolf to man, perhaps 40 years old. Harry raised his head to look at the man who had chased the wolf, and was still pointing a gun at the body. Slowly, he too raised his head, and emerald green met hazel. The gun shifted its aim almost instantly.

They stood in this calm stalemate for several moments, just staring. "Who are you? What are you doing here?" His gruff voice made a delightful shiver run down Harry's spine. He had accepted his sexuality last year, when he tried to get back together with Ginny, and realized he just wasn't attracted to her. And this was exactly the type of situation that made him glad he had broken things off with her.

He smiled weakly. "I'm Harry. I was hiding here. Don't know where I am, how I got here, nothing." Belatedly, he came to the realization that the cut on his arm was bleeding a lot more severely than he thought it was, and he was getting a bit dizzy.

"How do you not know?" The stranger practically growled. The gun hadn't lowered a millimeter.

Harry giggled. Quite unlike him, really. This whole blood loss thing wasn't doing so well for him. "Magic." His eyes slipped closed, and he vaguely heard the man curse as Harry slid down the wall.

The strange man stepped around the deceased werewolf, crouching down next to the now unconscious boy. He brushed thick black hair out of the other's face, examining it. He was pale, and his cheeks were shallow. Circles were evident under his eyes even by the dim light of the moon. He frowned at the strange lightning bolt scar on the boy's forehead. It wasn't a knife scar, that was certain. It was much to precise and clean. Wasn't a burn, either. It wasn't like any type of weapon the man had seen before. That left mystical circumstances, which was something he was familiar with. And considering the boy didn't know where he was or how he got there, there was a definite possibility that this was his area of expertise. The man sighed, and slid one arm underneath the boy's legs, and the other behind his back. Rising elegantly, he carried the boy against his chest, noticing how light he was. He walked out of the alley, thankful for once that his work required him to be out at night, for he would certainly be noticed carrying this boy in the middle of the day. He would be able to take him back to the church, and the monks would be able to examine his wounds and treat them.

The next time Harry woke, it was to soft murmurings. He was lying on something so soft, and warm, that he didn't want to open his eyes for fear that it was a dream, and he would wake up back in that alley with the werewolf. The werewolf! And the hunter! He shot up instantly, frantic. Was the hunter still out there? Was he going to kill him?! He nearly screamed in pain even as he did so; he had broken some ribs, it would seem. A large hand pushed gently on his shoulder, making him lie back down. Harry looked up into familiar hazel eyes. "Calm down, kid. You're safe."

Harry nearly whimpered. Merlin, that voice! Even without the growl, it was nice! He mentally slapped himself back to reality. "What happened? How did I get here? Where am I?" He spoke the last part somewhat forcefully, hoping that he would be able to get the point across to not mess with him.

"St. Peter's Church, just outside of Padua. Roughly 150 miles from Rome." The gruff man answered promptly, amused by the boy's attempt to sound tough.

Harry gaped. "I'm in Italy? How the bloody hell did that happen?!" He struggled to sit up again, but the strong hand kept his head firmly planted to the pillow.

The stranger chuckled. "I was hoping you could tell me. And maybe tell us how you got all those injuries." At this, Harry looked at himself, and realized one major thing. His chest was wrapped in bandages, as was his left arm. His right leg, which he was relatively sure had been hit by a cutting hex, was also bandaged heavily. The only piece of clothing he had left was his boxer shorts. And there wasn't a blanket over him. A very attractive man, as he could tell now, had seen him practically naked. Harry tried not to blush at the thought of this, but failed miserably. "Well?" the stranger smirked, eyeing the flushed skin laid out in front of him.

Harry looked away. "Could I have a blanket or something? Maybe my clothes back?" He hated himself for sounding so vulnerable.

The man shrugged, and looked over the bed. "Father Brian, if you could bring him a blanket?"

The man, whom Harry had not paid attention to before this moment, nodded, and bowed out of the room silently, returning shortly with a plain, thin woolen blanket. "Is this acceptable, sir?"

"Yes, thank you Father. I believe that I can handle things from here. Thank you for your help, Father." He spread the blanket over Harry, who immediately felt better and more confident for not being in mere underwear.

The man, clad in black robes, nodded with a smile. "It is not a problem. Whenever you pass through here, you bring such interesting stories for the children. It is a wonderful thing."

Once they were alone again, the strange man met eyes with Harry. The boy's face had hardened, as if he was expecting some great interrogation. "So? What do you want to know?"

He grinned. Harry couldn't help but think that it made him look even more attractive. "Let's start with your name."

"Harry Potter. Yours?" Harry was gauging his reaction. The man didn't even flinch at his name, so he must not be a wizard.

"You can call me Van Helsing. Everyone else does, nowadays." Harry frowned at bit at the odd answer. Van Helsing sounded more like a surname than a first name. What was he hiding? "Where are you from, Harry Potter?"

"Surrey," he answered unthinkingly, before realizing the severity of the situation. He didn't know who this Van Helsing was! What if he was really a Death Eater in disguise?!

Van Helsing frowned. "Never heard of it. Is it in Italy?"

He chuckled, nerves dissipating. "No, it's near London. England."

"You're a long way from home, kid."

Harry glared at him, a startling amount of frustration and anger in his eyes. "I'm not a kid, you know." Too many people called him a kid and told him he knew nothing of war, of Voldemort, of death. And they were wrong.

Van Helsing raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? You're what, 16? 17?" He couldn't help but hope silently that this Harry was older than that, old enough to at least make an attempt to see where his preferences were. He was startlingly attractive, with his pale complexion, bright eyes, and tousled hair. He had wiry muscles, and his body was made for agility and speed.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm twenty, actually." Oh how he hated the Dursleys for the lack of proper nutrition. He would always be short, thanks to their less than ideal methods of raising him. He saw Van Helsing raise an eyebrow in question.

"You look younger."

He snorted. "Clearly." Harry closed his eyes briefly, wondering what to do now. He knew this man's name, where he was, and was fairly certain the man was a muggle. But things weren't adding up. "What were you doing there last night?" He blurted.

Van Helsing started. He wasn't expecting that question so soon. "What do you mean?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Don't play that card. You know what I mean. Why were you in that alleyway, behind the werewolf? You saved my life, but I need to know what you were doing there, and how you just happened to have silver bullets in your gun."

The man sat back in his chair, evaluating this boy-no, man, lying before him in bed. Well, that came out wrong, with far too many delicious images. The man stretched out in front of him, practically naked…no, not any better. The man lying in bed, injured by someone or something that wasn't present in that alley. That was much better, without the plethora of images his mind immediately summoned at the thought of Harry naked in his bed. But he had to admit, those images would definitely be useful later on. The green-eyed man was still staring at him, calmly waiting for an answer. God, those eyes… so much emotion, and darkness behind them. They were disturbingly similar to the darkness Van Helsing saw in the mirror whenever he was privileged enough to have one. "I'm a Hunter." Interestingly enough, the other frowned, almost confused. "It's my job to find the monsters and beasts of this world and capture them or kill them, so they won't kill more innocents."

This didn't make any sense. All the Hunters had been retired in the 20th century, after the International Federation of Magical Creatures convinced the wizards to shut down the Knights of the Holy Order, after an innocent werewolf was killed by accident by a new Hunter. Harry said as much to Van Helsing, who proceeded to stare at him like he was insane.

"I work for the Knights of the Holy Order, and they're not disbanded. Don't know where you came from, but it's still the 19th century here." Van Helsing watched as Harry's face went chalk white, and his fists clenched the blankets. He was staring open-mouthed at the Hunter. He was shaking, and then his lips started to tinge blue. He was having a panic attack. "Shit!" Van Helsing swept to the bedside, resting a hand on the back of Harry's neck. "Breathe, kid! C'mon, breathe!"

Harry took a great, gasping breath. Several more were needed before he was able to breathe regularly again, but his eyes had gone blank. Unnaturally concerned, Van Helsing shifted Harry from his former lying position to a sitting one, getting barely a wince from him as the Hunter arranged the pillows behind his back so he could rest comfortably.

"Want to tell me what that was about?"

His eyes were still dull, lacking the spark of life that had been there. "Just a panic attack. What year is it, exactly?" _Just_ a panic attack? What was this kid?

Van Helsing sat back down gingerly. "You're not going to have another attack, are you?" Harry shook his head. "Good. It's 1892." Four years since Transylvania, he thought absently. He wondered briefly how Carl was doing back in Rome, and if he had figured out how to improve the tojos yet.

Harry did some quick math in his head, and almost wanted to cry. "Even if I live to be 100, I'll still die before I was born. Or should that be will be born?" he said more to himself than to the Hunter sitting next to him. Van Helsing remained silent, not sure where to even begin. "What am I even supposed to do?" His eyes were so desperate, so lonely, despairing, that the fearless man in front of him felt his heart clench in a way it hadn't in several years.

"Well," he began, hesitant to introduce the boy to the judgment of the church, "You can come with me back to Rome. Perhaps there we can try to discover how you came here."

The black haired boy snorted. "Not likely. This sort of time travel is supposed to be impossible. The furthest back in time anyone has been able to go is a week." He continued, oblivious to the shock now evident on the other man's face. "Time Turners only work for 24 hours, but there are a few spells and rituals to send you back or forward almost a month. The last person to attempt going forward in time more than that was killed. The amount of power it takes is far more than your average witch or wizard has." Harry looked up into shocked hazel eyes. "Oh. Oops?" Sheepishly, he tried to explain. "I get caught up sometimes, and didn't realize you didn't know what I was talking about and I know that you don't really know the whole time travel stuff, none of it was really investigated until the mid 1900's, but I thought you were at least a wizard, but you're not necessarily, 'cause the Holy Order didn't always recruit magical folk…"

Van Helsing started to laugh. Not his usual forced chuckle, either. He was actually, truly, laughing for the first time in a long while. He couldn't help it. The babbling was just too… cute. Harry stared at him, undeniably pleased at the man's amusement, and that laugh, much like the voice, sent shivers down his spine. His cheeks turned pink, ear tips reddened, and the corners of his mouth turned up in a small smile.

After a few minutes, Van Helsing managed to stop laughing. The faint traces of a smile remained fixed on his face, though. "Sorry. It's just that you are resilient."

Harry frowned, not quite understanding. "How so?"

He smiled. "Not five minutes ago, you were panicking. And now you've seemed to accept that you believe you've traveled in time."

The younger man shrugged, smiling shyly. "Weirder things have happened to me."


	2. Chapter 2

_My wonderful friend Jessie has agreed to be the permanent Beta for this fic! You're amazing!_

_Thanks to all of you who reviewed! I appreciate your feedback. I hope you continue to like it!_

_Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own Harry Potter or Van Helsing, because the real owners know what trouble I would get into if I really did own them._

_A Note- The point has been made that Van Helsing seems more human than in other fics. This is mostly because I don't think that finding out he was the left hand of God would make any difference in the way he acts, and because he has had 4 years to adjust to this information. I just don't like the idea of him being all high and mighty, or gaining powers suddenly, ya know? I just wanted to put my justification for his more human outlook here for you to understand. If it bugs you, please tell me! I'll do my best to figure something out._

**Chapter Two**

Harry had been at the small church for a full three days before he was allowed to actually get out of bed for longer than a few minutes to relieve his bladder. His first venture was all of ten feet into the next room to sit at the monk's table for lunch. Van Helsing had proved to be a notorious mother hen; he had yet to leave Harry's side for more than an hour, except when both were asleep.

"Why do you care so much?" Harry blurted after dinner one night, as the Hunter was helping him cross the room. He started, and his confused hazel eyes met Harry's. "I mean," the wizard amended, "why are you bothering to help me, rather than letting the monks handle it? I'm a complete stranger."

He shrugged broad shoulders, pausing to seat Harry on the side of the bed. "Don't know, really. Suppose it's because I've never really met someone like you. No one has ever been so seriously hurt that I've run into before, besides myself." He frowned. He didn't normally open up like this, either, but something about those green eyes made him want to spill each and every secret of his.

Harry narrowed his eyes at the man sitting in a chair- one that he so desperately wanted to be sharing with that man right about now- WOAH! Where had that come from?! He shook his head, clearing it of naughty thoughts. "Seriously, you don't have to feel bad. It's not like the werewolf you were chasing did this to me."

Van Helsing was sharply reminded of that, and the careful evasiveness of the boy as to where the injuries came from. He noticed him wince, as if realizing the perfect opening he given. "How did you get those wounds? They're pretty nasty." And how would you know about the Order, even if you are from the future as you say, he added silently.

Harry shrugged, struggling to keep his face blank, but his eyes gave away his unease. "I was in a fight."

"With what?"

"Not a what, actually." He chuckled grimly. "A 'who'." Harry paused. He didn't really want to tell this man all his secrets, but he couldn't help but wonder how he would react. Would the Hunter try to kill him, if Harry told him he was a wizard? Or would he be fine with it? There was no way to tell, really, so he would just have to go with a half-truth until he knew Van Helsing enough to trust him fully. "I was in a war."

"Judging by the fact that you could have died, I'm guessing it didn't work out that well for you," Van Helsing stated calmly.

Harry smiled, looking down at his hands curled in his lap. "We were winning, actually. I killed their leader. Or, I saw him fall. I think I got him, and I really hope so, but then his favorite minion, Bellatrix, she's more than a little crazy, she did a sp- something, and then I woke up in that alley." He wished desperately that Van Helsing didn't catch his slip-up. But, with Harry's luck, he did.

"What were you going to say?" The Hunter's voice grew hard as he thought of something. "You know exactly what this woman did, don't you? You know how you got here. You just don't want to tell me." The boy cringed away from him, curling into himself. "I killed a monster in front of you! You know what I do to protect people! Why don't you trust me?"

"I don't trust anyone!" Harry growled back, somehow finding the energy to jump to his feet. "I can't trust anyone! Not even my friends! You don't understand the world I come from. I've had to fight for my life against a megalomaniac since I was born! Every year, I've almost been killed by him! And when I finally kill him, I end up traveling in time! Forgive me if I don't exactly want to elaborate on what happened to me! Yes, I know generally what she did. But I don't know exactly. And the only way I'm ever getting home is if my friends figure out what she did, and that's not likely to happen!" He was breathing heavily, ribs strained, face red from his outburst.

Van Helsing stared at him. This sarcastic, somewhat meek boy who had just screamed at him. Him! The terrifying Hunter who even Carl admitted to being intimidated by! And he couldn't help but be distracted by the way Harry's eyes burned with passion, and his wiry muscles twitched under his shirt. "Maybe that's why you're here," he murmured softly. "To learn how to trust."

Harry scoffed. "Not bloody likely. I'm never lucky enough to get a break. Honestly, I'm surprised I haven't gotten attacked by anything yet. I'm usually a magnet for trouble." He swayed a bit, adrenaline fading from his system and leaving him weak.

Van Helsing quickly stood to steady him, and found himself looking down into endless pools of emerald. Harry was staring right at him, their faces closer than intended. The younger man was gripping the elder's arms, to keep upright, and arms wrapped around his waist. Neither wanted to breathe, lest they break the moment that was building between them. The Hunter was about to press his lips against the other, to feel those pouting lips, to finally taste him, and a knock on the door caused Harry to back off, seating himself back on the bed, looking anywhere but at the Hunter.

It took him a moment to compose himself, and take a few steps away from the bed, but Van Helsing eventually called out for the person to enter. A short, somewhat rotund balding man in brown robes entered, carrying two plates of food. "Van Helsing, I've brought you and your guest some dinner."

He took it from the man, putting the plates down on the small table next to the bed. "Thank you, Brother Ian." The monk nodded, and left without another word.

The Hunter returned to his chair, and resumed staring at Harry with such intensity that the subject of his stare had to resist the urge to squirm. "You must have trained for a long time, then, to be able to fend off this megalomaniac you've been hunted by."

The young man started, surprised that he had actually paid attention to the finer details of his angry venting, which had taken all of his remaining energy to do. He wasn't so sure he could even perform a simple levitation charm, at the moment. "Not really. I didn't get any special training until I was nearly sixteen. Before that, I only had the same basic knowledge my friends had."

It was difficult for the Hunter to believe this. "Why would they let you fight then, if you had no training? Why would they not protect you better?"

Harry chuckled darkly, a sound that made Van Helsing frown in concern. "Because they didn't think I needed protection, above being in school. Despite the fact that he attacked me twice on school grounds. Via other methods, of course, since he hadn't really come back to life fully until I was 14, and he didn't have a body yet." Harry paled as he realized what he had rambled about. "Um…"

Van Helsing's eyes were steel; they cut through Harry's defenses like a knife through butter. "What do you mean, he didn't have a body yet?"

He squirmed. He tried not to, really! But he couldn't help himself.

Van Helsing watched him squirm, trying desperately not to picture that same squirming body with a lot less clothes. He raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

Harry blushed. "Um, he sort of died, when I was a child." He paused, trying to find the best way to explain it. "His spirit or soul or whatever you want to call it floated around, possessing animals and people, until his followers performed a ritual when I was fourteen that gave him a new body."

The Hunter sat very still, staring at the wall behind Harry. Dark Magic rituals! That was something he hadn't had to deal with yet, that he remembered. And certainly they would have heard about one of this magnitude being performed. So that meant two things. Either Harry was telling the truth about being from the future, or he was completely and totally delusional with an extremely active imagination. But rarely did the latter sort defend themselves so vehemently, and he had to have gotten those wounds somewhere, so Van Helsing decided to put a bit more belief in the likelihood of Harry really being from the future. This brought up another point. How could Harry, at 14, get involved in something as sinister as being the target of a malevolent spirit with a new body? He was adding two plus two, and only getting one. "Why?"

Harry frowned, not understanding. "What?"

He cleared his throat. "Why was this guy after you? Why did he want you dead?"

There was no answer for several moments. Harry's head was bent, his gaze firmly fixed on his bare feet. The Hunter let him sit there, silently, on the bed to gather his thoughts. "It has to do with my parents, really." Van Helsing could see now that the man's eyes were closed, shutting out everything around him. "They fought against him, in the first war of our people. They fought him personally three times. See, there's this… Seer. She's usually not truthful, but she's given two real prophecies in her life. And she made one about-" he hesitated again, looking at Van Helsing for once. He must have seen something in his hazel eyes that gave him strength, because he continued. "About someone who would be born at the end of the seventh month, to parents who have thrice defied him, and this child would be the only one able to kill him." He licked his dry lips, chewing nervously on his bottom lip.

It took most of Van Helsing's willpower to not pin the man to the bed and take over that task for him. But that was for another time, he thought to himself. He would have plenty of time to kiss Harry later. "And everyone thought that you were the one this prophecy spoke of." At Harry's nod, he groaned. "Stupid prophets. Never know when to keep their mouths shut."

Harry frowned, and then grinned, a light coming into his eyes. "You sound like you've been the victim of one of these prophecies."

He snorted. "Oh yeah. Had to kill Dracula himself."

Over the next week and a half, the two didn't have much time to talk privately about their respective escapades. Van Helsing was out hunting nearly every night, and always came back cranky and tired, and thus avoided the boy, so that he didn't snap at him and lose all chance of becoming close to him. Harry was glad for the distance which kept him from embarrassing himself. He had to consciously remind himself that he wasn't in his own time anymore; he was in the past, when being gay wasn't exactly a good thing, especially if you were a member of the Catholic church, and the extremely good looking Hunter was one of them. Harry thought that the man had been flirting with him, and was perhaps even going to kiss him that day they fought, but he had been avoided ever since. Yes, the Hunter had a reason, what with the random killings by some unknown assailant, but still! He could spare a few minutes to check in with Harry, couldn't he?

After dinner one night, Harry decided that he had had enough. He left his room, and briskly walked down the hall to where his rescuer was hiding just in time to see him exit his room. He turned, and his hazel eyes widened when he saw Harry. "What are you doing out of bed? The monks said you should be resting," he chided.

Harry fought off a blush as he looked over Van Helsing, in full Hunting gear. Pants, shirt, and a leather trench-coat, all in black, and to top it off, a wide-brimmed hat that had seen better days. In holsters on both hips, Harry could see pistols and some strange device, as well as what he could only guess was a grappling hook. The man was dressed to kill- literally! "What-" He gulped, trying to compose himself. "Where are you going?"

The Hunter raised an eyebrow. "Out hunting."

He rolled his eyes. "That much was obvious. What are you hunting?"

Van Helsing smiled grimly. "No idea."

Harry gaped. "What?!"

He chuckled. "Just teasing. Supposedly, it's a giant snake. The Order thinks it's a basilisk."

Harry stared at him, disbelieving. "A basilisk? Really? I've dealt with one of those before. Not very effectively mind you, but then again, I was 12. Want some help?"

Van Helsing's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets at the calm acceptance of a basilisk roaming the streets. "You've dealt with a basilisk before?! And you're still alive?" How did he do it? How did this boy continually surprise him, Gabriel Van Helsing?!

He nodded sheepishly. "Yup. It was enormous, and I almost got bitten, but it missed me and I stabbed it through the head." He decided that he wouldn't tell the Hunter about the nearly foot-long fang that had been embedded in his arm, and the phoenix tears that had saved his life. "But yeah, I've killed one. So it would probably be best if you let me come along, since I have experience and all."

The Hunter shook his head. "You're insane. What makes you think that you'll be anything but a hindrance?" Van Helsing hoped that the boy would be angered, and refuse to help. That way, he would be safely out of harm's way. He blinked. Was he already this protective of Harry? That he would purposefully fight with him to keep him safe?

Harry shrugged, oblivious of Van Helsing's inner musings, and refusing to let his pride rule him. "The one I fought was being controlled by a ritual. It was a lot smarter than it should have been, from what I've read about them. And this one will probably be a bit smaller. I don't know how fast they grow, but the one I killed was close to a thousand years old. I'm guessing that this one will be confused as to which prey to go after first, especially if we approach from two sides." He figured that now was not a good time to tell the Hunter about his snake-talking abilities. "So, can I come?"

An hour later, the pair walked through the moon-lit streets of the city, searching for the dangerous creature which had killed five people. One was tall, dark, silent, and brooding just a bit. The other was short, dark, and grinning wildly. "What are you so happy about?"

"I haven't been on a good, old-fashioned hunt in a very long time. The last few years I've been training with a-". He stopped. He had almost blurted his secret to the Hunter in the middle of a dark street, for goodness' sake! How dumb could he get? "A group of people who wouldn't allow me into the field much."

Van Helsing narrowed his eyes. "You trained? To Hunt?"

Harry shrugged. "Not to Hunt, per say, but rather to fight the followers of the psychopath I talked about earlier, and how to kill him." He paused again, trying to find the best way to phrase his unorthodox training. If he hadn't paused in that moment, he wouldn't have heard the noise that he did.

_"Food…need to feed…mm, tasty human flesh…"_ He stopped dead in the street, holding out a hand across Van Helsing's chest.

"Did you hear that?" Harry whispered.

The Hunter halted, tilting his head in a way the younger man found completely enticing. "Slithering. Hissing." He barely whispered. Both men prepared their weapons, and Harry checked to make sure his wand was hidden securely up his right sleeve. It was hard to believe that the wizard was in this situation again, going up against a ferocious beast who wanted nothing more than to eat him. But in a way, it was oddly invigorating, especially having a man like Van Helsing by his side. If they both lived through this, and the Knights of the Holy Order had no solutions to get him back home, then Harry was definitely going after that piece of flesh.

His thoughts were cut short by the sound of scales against cobblestone getting louder. Van Helsing gestured for Harry to stay put, on the far right side of the street, while he moved smoothly to the other side. It wasn't long before Harry could hear more hissing.

_"Ssss… food…. Must feed…"_ The men froze as a pointed, elongated head emerged from a side street, swinging around to focus its gaze on their dark corner.

Harry sagged in relief when he saw the glowing pale green eyes instead of the acid yellow of adult basilisks. Van Helsing shot him a look, seeing him relax, even as the snake slithered quickly to where they were. And then all coherent thought stopped for the Hunter.

_"I am Harry, snake. What is your name, beautiful one?" _The snake was beautiful in the moonlight, with glistening patterns of white, brown, and black. It was nearly 12 meters long, and an intimidating set of fangs was clearly visible.

It stopped a scant few meters from Harry. Van Helsing would have instantly stepped forward with his tojos, ready to kill the snake if needed, but he was distracted by the nearly sinful sounds falling from Harry's mouth. Much to his surprise, the snake reared up and began to hiss back! Almost as if they were having a conversation!

_"A speaker? How you flatter... I am Serpente mortale. Celer mortis. What is a speaker doing here in my territory?"_

_"What is a snake such as yourself doing hunting humans?"_

She, for Harry could now tell it was a female, rose even higher, almost taunting him._ "I am simply providing for my hatchlings, fool. They need more meat than what the rats provide." _

Harry bowed his head in respect. _"My apologies, Mistress. I am sure your hatchlings need much meat, considering your impressive size." _

The snake bowed her head an inch or so, in response to his appropriate compliment. _"You are no hatchling. A speaker such as yourself has no need for such flattery. What is it that you want?"_

Harry smiled._ "I was going to ask you to stop feeding on humans, and perhaps move to an area where they keep cattle or sheep to satisfy you, but your hatchlings make things more difficult. I am sure they are somewhere safe, here, and it will be hard to find another place close enough for me to take you which will be equally safe. I do not wish any harm to your hatchlings, but feeding from humans makes it dangerous for you to be here. Rumors were that you were a basilisk. My friend here was under orders to kill the creature dangerous for these deaths, but because I am here, he will not kill you. But if you remain here, killing humans as you have, then there will be more humans coming to kill you and your hatchlings."_

Van Helsing started, alarmed by the abrupt change in the smooth hissing. The snake was now spitting, and hissing strangely at Harry, almost as if it was, well, laughing._ "Ha ha! You and the other human are not friends. Do not lie to me. I can smell his desire to mate with you, and you with him. You would have smart hatchlings indeed, if they speak to snakes as you can." _Harry turned bright red.

"Harry? What's going on?" The green eyed wizard closed his eyes momentarily, a shudder rushing over his body at the sound of the deeper than usual voice, heavy with emotion. He inwardly cursed his hormones. Remaining celibate throughout his teenage years, at the height of his hormonal imbalance, had only served to make him even more prone to them now. "Harry?"

He shook himself, trying to ignore the snake's laughter. "She's got hatchlings she has to feed. That's why she's been killing humans."

Van Helsing tightened his hold on his tojos, taking a few steps towards Harry, close enough to strike, but not close enough that the deadly snake would become alarmed. "And what's going to be done about that?"

Harry shrugged. "Not sure yet. I was going to say that we could bring her with us, and just drop her off in one of the forests around here, but with her having hatchlings, that would be a bit difficult." He swallowed, trying to ignore the twisting sensation in his gut at the thought of telling Van Helsing about his Parseltongue abilities. "Do you know anything of the geography around here?"

The Hunter was watching the enormous snake warily, waiting for it to decide that it didn't like them and attack. "A bit. Not much. But I do know there's a decent sized forest a few miles from here. Lots of dangerous wildlife for it to snack on."

The wizard nodded, and turned back to the snake. _"My friend says that there is a forest nearby that we can take you to. It has plenty of space and animals for your hatchlings to feed on." _He waited for a response, and then turned back to Van Helsing. _"That is acceptable for her. As long as we are careful with her hatchlings, and only I am allowed to touch them." _

The Hunter blinked at him, trying hard not to be caught in an… uncomfortable situation with the hissing sounds directed at him, paired with those eyes. "What? You were hissing still."

He blushed slightly. "Heh. Sorry, that happens sometimes. To me, everything sounds like English, so I don't always know what I'm talking in." He had embarrassed himself in front of the Hunter, again, and now the snake was a witness, and could tease him all she wanted without Van Helsing ever knowing. This, Harry supposed, was better than the snake being able to tell him that Harry wanted to mate with him. "She said she was fine with that, as long as I'm the one to carry her hatchlings. She doesn't trust a non-speaker with them. They won't know how to hold them."

Over the next two days, Van Helsing made various travel arrangements for them, such as procuring two horses and a small carriage. They had both agreed that they might as well head to Rome after depositing the snakes in their new home, since Harry was mostly healed up, and certainly well enough to travel. Harry was not happy to hear that the carriage (cart, really) was going to hold the snakes and their non-food supplies. "Why can't I sit in there too?" he whined. "I won't be able to walk for a week by the end of it!"

Van Helsing tried not to let his mind stray into the gutter with that comment. And he failed. Hey, even the Left Hand of God is allowed his flaws, right? "You'll live. Horseback riding isn't that difficult."

Harry pouted, not even realizing how much the stoic Hunter was affected by the sudden onslaught of adorableness. "But I've never ridden a horse before! The closest I've come is a hippogriff and a thestral."

The Hunter paused. "And what- never mind." He shook his head. "I don't even want to know what you were doing, riding an invisible death horse."

The wizard laughed. "It's a long story." His mood dampened as he realized that he hadn't told Van Helsing the truth yet. He had sort of implied his magic during their first conversation, but the Hunter hadn't seemed to notice, and he hadn't brought it up since. Harry was hoping he had been ignoring the rambling, and therefore didn't know. But then he was faced with the problem of what the bloody hell the man would say when he found out that Harry was actually a wizard. The only way Harry wanted to be Hunted by the intimidating man was in a game of naked hide-and-seek- and where the hell had that thought come from?! Bad Harry! He told himself. He shouldn't be thinking such… adventurous thoughts about the man. For all he knew, the Hunter was married with children, even though he didn't seem the type.

"So tell me, Van Helsing. What does your wife think of your, shall we say, profession?" He grinned fakely.

The Hunter snorted. "I don't have a wife. There was only one woman who I've ever known who understood what I do, but I have had much better luck with men." While he kept a cocky smile on his face, inwardly he was kicking himself. Not many people were accepting of Van Helsing's preferences towards his own gender.

Harry smirked at him, relieved. "I know exactly what you mean. I'm the same way."

Van Helsing returned the smirk, extremely glad that his advances wouldn't be immediately rejected. "That's very good to hear. Are the snakes ready to go?" He quickly changed the subject to distract the boy from the blatant statement he had just made.

He blinked, "Um, yeah, I think so."

"Good. Let's get this little adventure done with."

"What? Don't you like snakes?" the wizard teased.

The Hunter had to fight down an unusual blush. He loved snakes, but the snake language was just too… sensuous for his neglected libido.

_**Several Hours Later**_

Harry slid off the horse, three hours after dark. He was amazed he was able to stand. "Ow," he moaned. "I hurt in places I didn't think could hurt."

Van Helsing gracefully dismounted, smirking at the younger man's discomfort. "Well kid, look on the bright side."

"Which is?" He glared at the man responsible for his pain. Wait, that sounded wrong: responsible for making him ride- that's not any better. In fact, that's worse. He was just going to stop thinking now.

"Your muscles will be all broken in by the time we get to the Vatican."

The wizard crinkled his nose in disgust. "I am not looking forward to this ride." He winced as he straightened fully. His ribs weren't completely healed yet, but he would rather kiss a hippogriff than tell the attractive Hunter that he was still in pain. He could easily handle the twinges.

The two men opened the doors of the carriage. The large snake quickly slid out into Harry's arms, and he slid her gently to the ground. _"How are your hatchlings faring?"_

_"Sleeping. The bouncing was not fun."_ She hissed angrily. _"I will bite you if you wake them up."_

Harry smiled. _"Sorry about the bouncing. Nothing I could really do about that."_ He gently picked up the basket that held the hatchlings wrapped in blankets to keep them warm.

_"Your mate is doing it again." _

Harry blushed. _"He's not my mate. What is he doing?"_

She snickered, as much as a snake could at least. _"Staring. And he smells like he wants to make hatchlings with you."_

_"Oh shush. Let's just go get you and your hatchlings settled, alright?" _Still chuckling, the snake slithered off, searching for a good spot to make her nest. After nearly half an hour of wandering through the woods, she found a good rotted tree to make her nest under. With his and Van Helsing's help, the nest was ready for habitation shortly. The wizard carefully transferred the hatchlings, blankets and all, into their new home. Their mother instantly curled around them, poking at them with her nose to ensure their safety. Harry smiled down at the small hatchlings. They were so cute! Their mother was just trying to feed them, when she killed those people. It didn't matter now, at any rate. They would be just fine in these woods, with all the animals. _"Be careful of the humans. Don't try to eat them, please. Just leave them alone, and they'll leave you alone." _He smiled down at the small snakes, barely a foot long, and their enormous mother.

Van Helsing stayed silent, not trusting his voice to remain steady after nearly an hour of constant hissing. He led them easily back to the trail that they had wandered off of, and soon found themselves exiting the forest. Being the paranoid man that he was, Van Helsing had tied the horses to trees a ways down the road, completely out of sight of the main trail into the forest. Harry had thought it amusing and unnecessary at the time, but found himself grateful when he saw what awaited them.

A large mob stood there, pacing, at the edge of the forest. Most had pitchforks, or stakes, or torches. A couple even had shotguns.

Van Helsing tilted his hat downwards, hiding his face, and instinctively blocked Harry from the view of the mob. "What can I help you with gentlemen?" He said as politely as he could.

"You're the murderer! Van Helsing!" A man at the head of the mass shouted. "He's protecting the monster!" The crowd roared in anger. "Where's the monster?! We'll burn this forest down if that's what it takes to kill it!"

Harry stepped forward from behind the Hunter, green eyes blazing. "Leave them alone!" The Hunter tried to pull him back, but Harry shook him off. "Van Helsing is not a murderer! They are not monsters!"

An older man, who reminded Harry of a thinner Vernon Dursley, sneered. "Oh really, boy? And what are you? Bait for the monster? Or just his plaything?"

The Hunter could feel the anger and power flowing from him in waves. "I am NO ONE'S plaything, you vile man! The snakes are not monsters! She was just trying to feed her children."

One of the men visibly paled. "The creature bred? There's more?"

"BURN THE FOREST!" screamed a woman.

"Kill the murderers!"

Van Helsing pulled Harry back next to him, gripping his wrist tightly. "We are not murderers! Just let us leave, and we won't come back." He tried to sooth the mob. The older Hunter pulled Harry to the side just in time to dodge a sharp knife which then embedded itself into a tree. The villagers took this as a sign to start burning the forest and attacking the men. Harry wasn't able to dodge the pitchfork that smacked into his side, but then he had no time to think, because Van Helsing was pulling him away. "They're burning the forest! We have to go!" He shouted into Harry's ear.

He froze. The snakes! He promised them he would keep them safe. He slipped from Van Helsing's grasp and pulled out his wand. The mob froze as they felt the power flowing off of him, and he raised his arms, stick clutched in his hand. Brilliant blue light poured from it, blocking the objects that were being hurled at him, and forming a shimmering dome of light around the forest, stating immediately in front of the weapon-wielding crowd. It brightened briefly before disappearing altogether. "Leave." He growled. "You don't belong here. If you ever come back, I cannot guarantee you will leave alive." He calmly turned and walked away, following Van Helsing deeper into the forest, so they could loop around to go to their horses. They had been walking long enough that the crowd was no longer audible when Van Helsing abruptly stopped walking.

Strong arms shoved Harry into a tree, pinning him there. Furious hazel eyes bored into his, and Harry winced in anticipation of the yelling. "What the hell were you thinking?!" Van Helsing hissed, voice not rising above a normal level. That's when Harry knew to be scared for his life. The Hunter only used this tone of voice when he was absolutely pissed off and lusting for blood. "You could have died, you idiot!"

The wizard narrowed his eyes. "And what would you have done, huh?" He had to force the volume of his voice to match his friend's, because unlike him, his temper was not quiet. "Were you just going to sit back and let them die?! If I hadn't done that, they would be dead!"

"You don't get to decide what happens on Hunts!" Van Helsing shot out unthinkingly. "I'm in charge for a reason! So that you," he gave Harry's shoulders an extra shove against the unforgiving oak. "Stay alive!"

Harry bristled. "You were going to just rush in, weren't you? You were going to get yourself killed! How can you be that hypocritical?!"

"It's different for me! I'm supposed to do this! I'm supposed to kill evil! It's all I've ever known!"

The shorter man tried to get away from the constant pressure, shoving his hands against Van Helsing's chest. Frustrated when the man barely moved, he snapped. "HOW? How is it different for you?! Why am I not allowed to risk my life to save you, but you can?"

"Because I can't die!"

Both men froze at his outburst. Harry looked up into eye shifting between anger and loathing. But there was no reason for him to hate Harry, so it must be self-loathing, the wizard reasoned to himself. "What?" he whispered.

Van Helsing released Harry from the wall, backing away a few steps. "I can't die. What could kill a normal person just, well, just _doesn't_ kill me. It's because of who I used to be. You are mortal. I can't protect you if you're dead." His voice was just as quiet as before, but without the dangerous tone, and with a disturbing lack of emotion.

He really didn't want to ask. But he had to. "How old are you, Van Helsing?"

The man closed his eyes. "I remember fighting the Romans in 73 AD, but I've been around for longer than that. My name was, is, Gabriel." He paused, opening his eyes, devoid of emotion. "The Left Hand of God."

Harry swallowed. He wasn't a man for religion. Wizardry sort of went against many mainstream religions, so it was a bit difficult to be. But he found himself accepting what Van Helsing, Gabriel, was telling him. Maybe it was because those eyes had always seemed too old, and he trusted this Hunter who had saved his life many times and was sexy as hell. And now, this strong man, who hadn't even flinched when faced with a werewolf, was oddly vulnerable standing in the dark forest. Harry didn't hesitate; he stepped forward, cupped the Hunter's chin, and pulled it down to press their lips together in a firm, gentle kiss.

Van Helsing tensed for a second before leaning into the smaller man, backing him up against the tree, pressing more than just their lips together and deepening the kiss. Strong hands moved to grasp his hips, and then the large, calloused hands slid under his shirt, running up his side. Harry hissed in pain as the other man bumped a bruise. The kissing stopped instantly, the Hunter backing away. He was looking at the wizard accusingly. "You're hurt."

Harry grimaced. "Well, define hurt."

The Hunter growled. "In pain. Bruised. Bleeding."

He grinned sheepishly. "Yes. Yes. I wasn't the last time I checked." He winced as Van Helsing's hands retreated back under his shirt, trying his best not to react. With a quick yank, the shirt was lifted to reveal his extremely colorful chest and sides. "It's not as bad as it looks, promise!"

The Hunter shook his head in disappointment. "Harry, you can't fool me. Those are from the first incident, aren't they? You're still hurt from that. And this." He touched the rapidly forming brilliantly purple line. "This is from just now." Harry's silence was the only answer he needed. He pushed the shirt back over the other man's chest, stepping away. "We need to get back to the church. You won't make it to Rome like that."

Harry gaped as the man began to walk away. Was that it? He was really just going to walk away as if that little heart to heart and mouth to mouth thing hadn't happened?

"Don't just stand there!" The Hunter called back. "I'll only talk to you once you've been looked at. There's a church not that far from here that I have connections with. One of the monks there will be able to help." Van Helsing smirked as he heard quick footsteps catch up with him. He knew he could get Harry to follow him by saying that. He glanced over at the shorter man, seeing a look of worry on his face. What was he worried about? The mob was distracted, the snakes were safe, and he was going to talk to him once they got to the church- oh. Harry thought that the talk was- oh. Van Helsing smiled. He had better reassure his Harry, now hadn't he? He stopped walking again, and registered a look of confusion in those green eyes before he was gently kissing those soft lips again.


	3. Chapter 3

_**SilverDragon-Purity: **__Sorry, I meant to put the translations at the bottom of the chapter. Serpente mortale is Latin for deadly snake/ serpent, and celer mortis is swift death. Basically, she's a very deadly snake with fast-acting poison. _

_The snake: she is a cross between a Levant Viper and a Krait. Both are highly venomous, and rather large. I don't know if such a cross exists outside of my own mind. _

_It has been mentioned that perhaps the relationship is moving too fast. Let me point out that one of the people in said relationship is a man in his early twenties, who has never had a real relationship before and who has raging hormones. Things will slow down a bit in this chapter, though._

_I'm sooooo sorry it took me this long to update! I had this chapter finished a while ago, I just completely forgot to post it. Second semester of my AP&P class is pretty much kicking my ass, so i blame college. I'm sorry! I'll do my best to update again soon.  
_

**Chapter Three**

Van Helsing led Harry silently to the small church, where they were led to the basement. The lone monk set up two spare mattresses, and left them in favor of his own cottage not too far from the church.

Still not speaking to Harry, the hunter pushed him down to sit on a chair. He gave a small squeak as large hands pulled his shirt off. The wizard quickly froze, not sure what was going on, especially since he was in a chair and not in a bed. He relaxed slightly when Van Helsing turned to dig bandages out of his pack, but flinched when the other man's hands brushed against his side. The bruising on his ribcage was extensive. Harry wouldn't have been surprised if the hunter told him he had likely broken a rib or two. The huge hands, too gentle for their size, eased the wrappings around the younger man's chest, slipping around the back to practically caress the spine.

Once that was done, Van Helsing grabbed a second chair and placed it directly in front of the other, sitting down gracefully. "Mind telling me what all of that was about?"

Harry winced at the question, as expected as it was. "What do you mean?"

The Hunter raised an eyebrow, face blank, as he crossed his arms. "You know exactly what I mean. What happened in the forest? That strange light, your stick, and how you were able to repel those weapons. Explain. Now."

The younger man sighed, and dropped his head to stare at the floor. "You aren't going to like my explanation." He paused, but got a growl to continue. He sighed again. "It was magic. Where I come from, or rather when I come from, all children with magical abilities are taught how to control it and how to use it. I was born with the ability to do magic, as are all magic-users. The men are wizards, and the women are witches. I was placing a ward around the forest so that anyone with any ill intent towards the forest or its inhabitants will not be allowed to pass."

The Hunter was silent for a short while longer; the wizard didn't dare speak more or look up at him. "Have you ever hurt anyone on purpose using your magic?"

Harry's eyes slid shut, and his palms began to sweat. "Yes," he whispered, remembering the final battle between himself and Lord Voldemort. "I've killed using magic, unfortunately."

"Did you harm innocents?" He barked out.

He vehemently protested, "No! I would never do that!" He looked straight into Van Helsing's eyes, pleading. "I would never hurt an innocent. I had to kill because it was war! I had no choice. His men were killing muggles, and torturing my friends, and they wouldn't stop until he died! I had to do it!" Tears were fighting to spill down his cheeks, but he wouldn't let them. He would be strong in front of the Hunter. "Please, Van Helsing. You have to believe me."

The man studied his face, taking in the glistening eyes and the desperate voice. This boy knew war, had fought brutally in it as he had said when they first met. "I believe you, Harry. I've had to kill those causing death as well, and I'm no happier about it than you are. I don't kill beings that haven't done wrong. You haven't hurt innocents, so I have no reason to harm you." He paused, mentally realizing that he spoke more words to this boy in the past few weeks than he usually did in a few months. "Relax Harry. We're still going to the Vatican to talk to the scientists there and see if we can get you home, but I won't tell them unless necessary that you have magic."

Harry went pale, thinking of the stories he had heard about what the Holy Order would do, and had done, to magical folk before the truce. Some rogue agents must still do it, in this time, especially those ignorant of the magical world. "What do you think they would do, if they found out?" He wasn't exactly sure when the truce was made with the Hunters, as history had never been his strong point.

Van Helsing shrugged. "Not sure. Carl and I made Jinette change his mind about the peaceful monsters a couple years back. He wanted me to kill Frankenstein's creation, but he was a pushover really, and didn't want to hurt anyone. So we sent him away, and I had to threaten the Cardinal with leaving the order to make him reconsider his kill first, ask later policy." He paused. "He really had no choice, either, since I'm technically a werewolf." He wasn't sure if he should have said that, but he found he had been doing that a lot around this green-eyed beauty.

Harry frowned. "How only technically?"

The Hunter was surprised at the lack of reaction, but humored him. "I was bitten, and transformed two nights later. I killed Dracula, who was controlling the werewolves, and was given the cure."

Harry's eyes widened, and his back straightened, ignoring the twinge of pain in his ribs. "There's a cure?"

Van Helsing shook his head. "Only for the original strain of werewolf. There are now two subspecies. They were affected by the death of Dracula in a way we didn't anticipate. Some werewolves can only become human during the full moon now, and others only become werewolves during the full moon. The ones who are more wolf than human are nearly gone already, and it's only been two years since the split was made. And the cure only worked anyway if it was administered before the stroke of midnight of the first transformation."

He slumped back in the chair, finding again the best form of slouch for his ribs. He didn't want to continue this conversation with him in bed, and if Van Helsing thought he was in pain, that's what would happen. "Damn." He cursed softly.

"Why so interested?"

Harry ginned at him, and it was just a touch forced. "My godfather is a werewolf. In my time, there's only the one type, the ones that are human except on the full moon. There's a potion now that lets him keep his sanity while he's a wolf, but he's still in a great deal of pain. He's had to live with this since he was bitten when he was six. I guess I was just hoping I could find a cure."

Van Helsing frowned at him. Just what sort of society did this man live in, if werewolves were so common as to have a potion created for them?

Sensing his confusion, Harry elaborated. "Wizards have known about werewolves for ages. Most didn't want to believe that they could be functioning parts of society, but there was a huge move for werewolf rights before I was born. I don't know all the details of it, but I know that they have a lot more rights than they used to. Once someone created the first form of Wolfsbane, things were a lot easier for them. My godfather is in complete control during the full moon, as long as he takes his potion."

The Hunter nodded. That would certainly explain his lack of fear. "We were talking about you having magic before you distracted me." Harry smiled sheepishly at him. "Why do you carry that stick? Is it a weapon of your people?"

He nodded. "It's my wand. Some people, the ones with more power and better control of their magic, have the ability to perform wandless magic, but the average witch or wizard is useless magically without a wand." Harry fidgeted under the Hunter's stare, for the first time in the past ten minutes realizing that he wasn't wearing a shirt any more, just trousers. "We use our wands to cast spells, create wards, practically everything."

"And a spell is what sent you here, isn't it?"

Harry lowered his head, thinking back to the last moments of the battle. "Yes. I don't know which one, or if it was even a proper spell. Knowing the witch who cast it, it may even be a spell that she just made up, and meant for it to kill me painfully. She's a bit psychotic."

The older man snorted, reclining casually in the somewhat uncomfortable chair. He studied the man sitting across from him carefully. He was too skinny still, even after two weeks of nutrient rich foods supplied by the monks. Perhaps Carl would have an idea to get some meat back on those bones. The small man was all muscle; it was clear he had undergone intensive training for something, which Van Helsing now knew was a war with magic users. Is that what his future would be? He mentally slapped himself. He would have time to deal with those thoughts later, maybe when the wizard was… wait… Harry still hadn't put a shirt… Van Helsing allowed his eyes to travel down from the hollow of the neck, to the faint amount of hair visible above the wrappings of the ribs. His eyes found the coarse hair by the belly button, following it down to the top of the other man's trousers. Knowing that Harry had become aware of his staring, Van Helsing couldn't resist looking a bit further down for a scant few seconds before moving his eyes back up to meet Harry's, smirking in a rather… hungry way. The muscular hunter leaned back in his chair, eyes locked with green.

Harry was in a precarious situation. He was gay; he knew this and accepted it. He tended to drift towards older men; also a given, and acceptable, considering the lack of maturity of most of his age group. But _this_ man? A powerful, built, and intelligent man who knew nothing of the wizarding world? A man who was formerly known as the Left Hand of God, who Harry still had doubts about existing? And now this man, this rugged, gorgeous man, was looking at him as if he was a starving man looking at a side of beef! The wizard fidgeted beneath the gaze, forgetting momentarily to conceal the wince on his face as he jostled his ribs again.

Van Helsing immediately pushed aside his…ahem… hormones and stood. "You're in pain." The silence was enough of an answer for the older man, and he gently grasped Harry's shoulder, easing him from the chair. "Time for you to get to bed, I think. It's nearly midnight anyway."

"Oh come on! It doesn't hurt that much!" He protested weakly.

The Hunter snorted. "Nice try, kid. We'll head back out in a couple of days, so you need your sleep." Before Harry knew it, the gruff man had tucked him gently into the cot, wrapping thick blankets around him. "I'll be down the hall for a while, if you need me." Rough lips brushed against the wizard's for a brief moment, and then Van Helsing was gone.

"Oh bugger." Harry groaned. He was falling hard for this man that he had barely known for two weeks. They hadn't even talked much for that time. He would eventually have to return to his own time; would he want to, if he kept this up? The wizard drifted off soon after, his dreams full of a lifetime of monster hunting and… _playing_ with Gabriel.


End file.
